The Object of His Desire
by BonTempsCutie
Summary: What happens when Barrons' OOPs Detector gets sick? Mac tries to take matters into her own hands... Set during Darkfever.
1. Chapter 1

_**These characters belong to the brilliant Karen Marie Moning. My brain just likes to fill in the gaps between moments from time to time.**_

_**Many have asked about TBOJ. I thought when I posted that last chap I was done. Really. Turns out JZB wasn't quite done with me, and for that I am... thankful. But I had already fleshed this one out so you'll have to bear with me for a bit. **_

_**It bugged me that Mac got nauseous whenever she came into contact with Objects of Power, or OOPs as she liked to call them. I kept wondering what she ate and how she dealt with it, cause we all know it sucks to be nauseous.**_

_**This story takes place early in Darkfever, following Mac and Barrons visit to Casa Blanc. Barrons has just proven that Mac can sense the Sinsar Dubh… which means she just became useful to him. He now had his very own personal bloodhound.**_

_**Big thanks to my lovely betas, the wonderful Tradermare and the delightful Indigobuni, who whipped out their red pens and looked this one over and got it in shape so you could read it. **_

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><p>I followed him into the store, bone tired and starving.<p>

"Do you have a kitchen I can borrow?"

"No."

"Oh."

And with that, Jericho Barrons turned and disappeared down the hall.

I trudged up the stairs hoping there might be something in my room I could eat besides microwave popcorn and candy bars. I was going to have to do something about this. Between my high metabolism, the constant nausea, and the vomiting in the presence of OOPs, I really was feeling like crap. Tonight had been the worst, but after my encounter with the Sinsar Dubh, no wait, _photocopies of two pages of it,_ all other fae objects would probably pale in comparison. At least I hoped they would.

Staying out all hours with Barrons hunting OOPs wasn't helping either. Thankfully it was Sunday, the bookstore would be closed, and I wouldn't have to deal with Fiona. She hadn't said a kind word to me since Barrons had insisted I stay in his bookstore. I nearly fell off the couch when she asked me if I wanted a sandwich earlier today.

Before we had left for our nocturnal activities, Barrons had taken out the pages of the Sinsar Dubh. He wanted me to become desensitized to it. I wanted to kill him. He insisted that after repeated exposure I would build up immunity to the Fae and fae objects. I had doubled over throwing up my meager dinner of half a leftover sandwich from lunch.

Food. I really needed some. Maybe I could take some of that money I wasn't spending on rent and splurge on some real groceries. Things I could keep easily in my room - bread, fruit, peanut butter.

I didn't know if it was the lack of food in my stomach, the thought of all the food I was going to buy, or walking up five flights of stairs, but as soon as I got back to my room I felt sick again. I was determined not to throw up this time.

Kicking off my heels and stripping off my tight, black dress, I made my way to the bathroom. Tonight we had gone hunting at Casa Blanc, a steel and glass monstrosity of a house that stood in stark contrast to the beautifully manicured grounds it sat on. There I met yet another player who was hunting for the Sinsar Dubh, McCabe.

McCabe looked like a ridiculous version of the ice cream man in his all white garb. He and Barrons traded vulgar pleasantries while I stood there trying not to scream. I couldn't stop thinking about Alina. Had she been here? Had she known these people, been a pawn in their game? I had a hard time believing she could have been a part of this world, but then again I was still having a hard time accepting my new place in it.

I was only too happy when McCabe dismissed us. That was short lived when Barrons had me spend the rest of the night walking the house and then the grounds looking for fae objects. _Bastard. _

Bending over the sink I washed my face and gulped down some water. The cool liquid slid down my throat, easing the tension a bit, but as I stood back up I felt dizzy. I ran over to the toilet, doubled over and began dry heaving. Thankfully the water stayed down. I really needed to eat something.

It was quarter after five in the morning and the sky was beginning to lighten. Giving up on sleep for the moment, I decided to take a shower, put on some fresh clothes and wait until one of the pastry shops opened. Without something in my stomach it was highly unlikely I'd get any sleep, and god only knows what Barrons was going to torture me with later night.

I tried to make the shower last as long as I could, shaving my legs, scrubbing the now calloused heels of my feet, conditioning my hair. When I was properly moisturized and dressed I glanced at the time. It wasn't even six o'clock. I really had no idea what time the bakeries around here opened, but I somehow doubted it would be this early.

Pulling a large wingback chair over to one of the picture windows in my borrowed bedroom, I tried to write in my journal as the sun rose over the garage rooftop, but my eyes wouldn't focus.

Rubbing my temples, I tried to think of all the things an OOP Detector could detect. Just how many OOPs were out there, because really, what good was I if I vomited or passed out every time I came near an Object Of Power.

Maybe I could head up the Order of Penguins instead. Or crack down on Oglers of Porn, not that I was necessarily against that... Or maybe I could sell Oil of Patchouli. Except I really didn't like the smell of that stuff.

Taking a deep breath, I got up and began fishing through my suitcase for my cosmetics cases. Taking out the one that held my nail polish, I began organizing them on the window sill. Perhaps I could write a blog and offer Opinions on Polish. I began scrutinizing them to determine which ones would still work with my newer, darker hair shade. Then I began pulling out my accessories and doing the same thing.

I was definitely going to need a trip to the mall.

* * *

><p>After I was sure she was in her bedroom I'd gone to my study and entered the silver that led directly to my real study. Well not quite directly.<p>

I smelled him as soon as I stepped through. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ryodan pointed to the monitors, one of my apples, half-eaten, in his hand. "Your new pet is sick."

Growling low in my throat, "Did you find anything?"

"Has it been so long since you've had a pet? You have to feed and water them or they die." The fucker smiled at me while he ate my apple.

I went around to where he was standing and scanned the wall of monitors. Narrowing in on the ones in her bedroom, I didn't see anything.

"She's in the bathroom, retching."

_Fuck. As in what the fuck have I gotten myself into._ I headed to the kitchen and began pulling out a frying pan, eggs and some fruit.

"She's not my _pet_. She's a sidhe-seer... and a null."

Ryodan came out of the study and hopped up on one of my counters. "And something else, I bet. Why else would you have agreed to protect her? And why the fuck are the rest of us agreeing to protect her? Although... she does have a lovely ass."

The pan missed him by an inch.

"We've been over this. I have not searched this long and this hard for so many years to be undone by you or anyone else—"

"Whoa…easy Z. We all want to find the book, you know that. Nothing has changed. Except maybe you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying you seem to care about this one. You need to be careful."

"Yes, I care that she doesn't do something stupid and get herself killed before she's done being useful to me. _That's_ what I care about."

Ryodan tossed the core into the nearby trashbin and put his hands up. "Okay, I'm just checking." He grabbed another apple and started backing out of the kitchen. "Gotta get back to the club. Call me if you need help keeping an eye on her." Then he winked at me.

That time I didn't miss.

I was halfway up the first flight of stairs when I heard the back door click shut. I raced up to the landing just in time to look out the window and see her rounding the corner of my building.

_Bloody fucking hell._

Still gripping the tray of food I had just made for her, I ran back down and toward the front of the store, watching as she walked past. She had on some kind of flowing pink skirt that swayed as she walked, showing off tan, lean legs. A tight white top melded to curves that were entirely too feminine on that body. A green cardigan hung loosely over her arm.

Rage began bubbling inside me. Setting the tray down, I unlatched the bolts on the door and followed her down the street.


	2. Chapter 2

_**These characters belong to the brilliant Karen Marie Moning. **_

_**My brain just likes to fill in the gaps between moments from time to time…**_

_**Big thanks to my goddesses of the red pen, Tradermare and Indigobuni. As always, they whipped this one into shape so you could read it.**_

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><p>I couldn't wait any longer. My stomach was doing flip flops, my head was pounding, and the water I'd been guzzling just wasn't cutting it. Grabbing a fuzzy green cardigan, that under other circumstances would have delighted me because it made my eyes pop against my darker hair, I headed downstairs. There was a small pastry shop not too far from Barrons Books &amp; Baubles. Maybe I could get them to open early and see if they'd let me buy a bag of scones and a loaf of bread. Maybe they'd even have some decent coffee.<p>

I stepped out into the early morning air and felt immensely better. Perhaps it was the brisk chill of the morning just before the sun rose in the sky, or just the idea that I was closer to getting something to eat. I walked around the building and through the alley, passing by the front door. I made a mental note to stop at the drugstore and pick up some tums, aspirin, crackers, and various other things to help soothe an upset stomach. I had a sinking feeling that I was going to need a truckload of them.

The further down the street I walked, the strangest sensation swept over me that I was being followed. I slowed and began to casually take in my surroundings. How could I have been so stupid to let my guard down? Just because it was daytime didn't mean there wasn't danger lurking around every corner. Finally feeling brave enough to look behind me, I let out a huge sigh of relief when nothing was there. Barrons constant paranoia was definitely rubbing off on me.

A delicious aroma suffused the air. I stopped in my tracks and let it wash over me. It was that wonderful warm feeling you get the moment fresh baked bread comes out of the oven. My mom was a great cook and an even better baker. A wave of homesickness hit me. Stuffing that feeling back down, I read the sign on the shop door. They didn't open until seven. I still had thirty minutes left.

I tried to peer into the shop but it was dark, and I couldn't see anyone. They were probably all in the back working furiously to get ready for the morning rush. I'd seen a line of people snake out this door waiting to get in the other day. I wasn't really sure where the next closest shop was so I sat down on the stone steps and waited.

The storefront was painted a vibrant red with a huge window display to tempt and tease passersby with delicious treats. It was only a few blocks from BB&B and surrounded by tiny shops that sold a variety of things from flowers to clothing. The shops were small, but each had intricate and elegant facades. The street was lined with park benches and planters overflowing with greenery.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the cobbled street began to gleam with all the various colors of the stones. With everything that had been going on lately, I'd forgotten how beautiful Dublin could be.

"Ow!" I jumped up and whirled around to find an older woman holding the handle of the door that had just nailed me in the back.

"Och, sorry lass, didn't mean to hit you, I really need to get this hinge fixed. Can I help you with something?"

"It's okay, I was just waiting for you to open. I can go wait somewhere else."

"American?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"This Dublin weather getting to you? Looking a bit peaky."

"I think I might have caught a bug, but I'm okay, really."

"No you're not. Come inside and I'll fix you right up." She opened the door wide and ushered me in. Much like BB&B, the shop looked deceptively small from the outside. Dark leather snugs lined one side while long wooden tables ran the length of the other. In the back of the shop was a counter with an old-fashioned register. To the left of that was a large stone fireplace.

I followed her to the back of the store. "That's very kind of you, I'm sure you have a lot to get done before you open. Maybe I could just buy a few things and be on my way?"

"Come, sit by the fire. Let me get you some tea and something to eat." She grabbed my face and turned it both ways before releasing it, clearly not pleased by what she saw. "Stay right here, I know just what you need."

"I don't want to put you out." I called after her.

"No trouble at all dear. Be back in a jiffy." And with that she disappeared into what I presumed was the kitchen.

Sitting down, I stretched my arms out in front of the fire and relaxed. The heat felt good. I didn't realize how cold I had been. Even though the sun was out this morning there was still dampness in the air. Lost in my thoughts, I jumped when I heard something heavy hit the floor. That was soon followed by yelling and more things either falling or being thrown. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Just as I was about to get up and leave, the kitchen door swung open and a very good looking young man approached me carrying a large bowl with steam pouring out of it. The look on his face said he had better things to do.

"I take it this is for you." He set the bowl down on the table in front of me, along with a hunk of bread and a cup of what I presumed was tea. He hadn't bothered to look at me.

"I'm so sorry for the trouble I've caused you this morning. Here, let me pay for this and I'll get out of your hair."

He looked at me, and the smile went all the way to his eyes. His face was beautiful, high cheekbones, creamy pale Irish skin, and gorgeous blue eyes. All of that was framed by short, thick, black hair.

"Naw, it's okay. Sorry for being a git. Ma is always taking in strangers, and one of our ovens went down so we're behind to begin with. Please, stay and eat. Ma says you're not feeling well. This stew is perfect for what ails you."

"Are you sure?" Why had I come in? Maybe I could just sit here and stare at him. All day long.

He placed his large hand over my much smaller one, his fingers long and warm. "Stay, please. I'd feel terrible for chasing a lovely lass like you out."

I'm pretty sure I was blushing; either that or I had just spiked a fever. "Thank you."

Okay, I'll admit it. I said it from beneath my lashes. Nothing like flirting with a gorgeous guy to make you feel better.

A loud crash broke the moment. "I best be checking what that was. I'll be back. Take your time and just call out if you need anything." As he got to the door he turned back, "And don't leave." He inclined his head at me and looked very serious. "Promise me."

Could he be anymore adorable? "I promise."

I pulled the bowl of stew closer and inhaled deeply. It smelled heavenly. The broth was delicious, and the stew even better with delicate pieces of carrots, potatoes and soft meat. It wasn't what I'd come in for, but it was exactly what I needed. I tried not to eat too fast, but it tasted so good. Ripping off a piece of the bread, I sucked up some of the juices with it. Then I gingerly took a sip of the tea. I'm not normally a tea drinker but this didn't have a heavy taste to it and it coated my throat. I hadn't even realized how raw it felt until I started drinking.

I really needed to start eating better and on a more regular basis. Unfortunately, I couldn't afford to eat all my meals out but BB&B didn't have a kitchen. I really didn't want to rethink my accommodations, but I didn't know if I had a choice.

It wasn't like Barrons or Fiona for that matter, okay especially Fiona, even wanted me there. Barrons was just trying to protect his personal bloodhound, and Fiona apparently did whatever Barrons told her to do. The more I thought about it the angrier I got. Why was I even staying there? It's not like anyone stayed with me when the store was closed. I could just as easily lock my door and leave the lights on all night in an apartment as BB&B. And an apartment would have a kitchen, with a fridge, and a stove.

By the time I headed back to BB&B, I had a bag of scones, a loaf of bread with enough meat for a few sandwiches, and my sundries from a quick stop at the pharmacy. I also had a newspaper and Kyle's phone number. Feeling decidedly better, I headed back to my temporary lodging.

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><p>It took all my restraint not to go in there, throw her over my shoulder and drag her back to the bookstore.<p>

_Fuck._ Maybe Ryo was right. I couldn't afford to get attached to her. She really was going to get herself killed at this rate. If I hadn't made some noise, _on purpose_, she would have never turned around to see if anyone was following her. She needed to get smarter, more observant, and fast.

I didn't want to just keep her safe. I wanted to keep _her_. There was something about her, something she wasn't even aware of yet. I wanted to know what it was and why she had ended up in my store that night. It was only too convenient when she was forced to stay with me due to her own carelessness. Disguising her had been a stroke of genius on my part. Whomever she had encountered before she stumbled into my world wouldn't recognize her now. It would buy me some time to try and figure out what she was, and what she could do.

I had been spending the time I wasn't with her doing research. Who was she? Where did she come from? How the fuck had a sidhe seer, _no make that two sidhe seers_, gotten lost. Or were they hidden? And if so, why? What was it about the Lane sisters? Every one of my instincts was screaming at me that she was the one, the one that could help me finally get my hands on the book. Then I could put an end to all of this.

I watched as she flirted with one of Siobhan's sons. Then she wolfed down her food. Ryo was right. I kept forgetting she was human and needed to eat. Might even make her more compliant at times. I decided to head back to the bookstore and wait for her there. It would give me time to leave a note for Fio to make sure she had proper meals from here on out. She'd hate it, but she'd do it. For me.

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><p>"Where the hell were you going so early in the morning Ms. Lane?"<p>

"Barrons!" I jumped, startled by him as he stepped out of the front door.

Where the heck had he come from? I didn't even hear him. He never came to the bookstore this early. I clutched the items I was carrying to my chest, hoping my heart rate would slow down. Any minute now would be great.

"Not smart Ms. Lane. What if I had been someone else? Just because you changed your hair color, doesn't mean those in the higher castes can't sense you."

I grabbed her by the upper arm and pulled her into the bookstore. Her mouth hung open, her eyes widened as she absorbed my words.

_Fuck_. Maybe I should have kept that last part to myself.


	3. Chapter 3

_**These characters belong to the brilliant Karen Marie Moning.**_

_**Big squishy hugs to my betas, Tradermare and Indigobuni. They are both extremely accomplished writers – if you haven't already, go read their stuff. **__**After you finish this chap…**_

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><p>"You mean you made me chop off my hair and color it for nothing?"<p>

He still had me by the upper arm as he dragged me into the store and back to the rear conversation area. It was one of the few places here that I had started to think of as mine.

"Let go of me already!" I wrenched my arm out of his grip and as soon as I did I regretted it. I'd be bruised there by tomorrow. And to make matters worse my head was hurting again. I slumped down onto the sofa, placing my things beside me before rubbing my temples. He might have been talking at me. I can't believe he made me cut off my hair. _Jackpetunia._ Getting angry only made my head pound more. Opening my eyes, I noticed a tray of food sitting on the table.

"What's that?"

"Well if you had stuck around you could have had something warm to eat."

Realization hit me. I glared at him. "Oh, so you _do_ have a kitchen, I just can't borrow it."

"Ms. Lane going outside when you're not even paying attention to your surroundings-"

"Spare me Barrons. I'm not in the mood. Headache. Getting worse. Gee, I wonder why." _Asshole_. _Sorry Mom_. Why had I listened to him? I really am an idiot. Who knows what else he lied to me about?

"I haven't lied to you about anything Ms. Lane.

_Crap_. Had I said that last part out loud? "Really Barrons? Exactly why then did you have me cut off my hair and dye it if the Fae will be able to sense me anyway."

"What they'll sense Ms. Lane, is a _sidhe-seer_. Which is what you are. It's not my fault you ran right into an Unseelie and then didn't have the wherewithal to hide not only that knowledge, but the fact that you're a null. You. Came. To. Me."

Oh yes, he reminded me of that. Often.

"Listen, I get the message. Neither you _or_ Fiona ever wanted me here. How about I go back up to my borrowed bedroom and you can yell at me some more while I lay down." With any luck I'd pass out while he was still yelling at me.

"Why do you think I've given you a safe place to stay?"

I stopped rubbing my temples and looked up at him. "I honestly have no idea." And I didn't, because really, staying here was killing me; a little bit of my soul was dying each day. No one was nice to me and I needed to start eating more regularly which was hard to do here.

"Nice? You're upset because we're not _nice_ to you? Do you think the Unseelie will be nice to you when they capture you Ms. Lane?"

I really needed a filter sometimes. Or at least I needed to stop thinking out loud. My head was pounding. I started to stand but immediately felt dizzy. Sitting back down I fumbled for the bag of scones and broke off a piece. Maybe I needed to eat more? I had felt so much better back at the pastry shop. Taking a deep breath, I chewed slowly. Breathe and eat Mac, breathe and eat. After a while I began to feel better.

I opened my eyes expecting to find a Jericho Barrons glaring down at me. But at some point he must have left. It was just as well. I was exhausted, and there was really no point in being angry with him. It's not like I couldn't grow my hair back anyway. But at least I knew I definitely couldn't trust anything he said at face value.

I needed to get smarter, and fast. The first thing I was going to do was find another place to stay. Pulling out the newspaper I looked over the places Kyle had recommended. Only a few were in my budget. It was still early in the day. Maybe I could call the landlords and look at some of them later, but right then I just wanted to sleep. Grabbing the hideous throw that laid over the back of the couch, I wrapped it around me, lay down and closed my eyes.

* * *

><p>The wind felt good against my skin. Getting on my bike and getting the hell out of there had been the smartest thing I'd done in a while. She drove me bugfuck.<p>

She was insufferable, petulant, rash. She really didn't grasp what the hell was going on here. If the worst thing that happened to her was that I made her cut off her long blonde locks then she'd be lucky.

This surely must be payback. Why else would the possible key to everything I'd been searching for be sent to me in the form of this pink imbecile who could barely keep her wits about her. I didn't have time for this. Something was happening. I smelled it in the air. The Unseelie were getting bolder and the Shades restless.

And yet here I was, spending all my free time trying to make sure she didn't get killed. Hoping she was paying attention and learning to make smarter choices. Yet for all her missteps, she managed to stand up to me and everyone else. She was either the bravest person I'd ever met or the stupidest.

When I finally returned, I skidded to a stop in front of my store and stared in disbelief. _Bloody fucking hell._ If she left I'll hunt her down and kill her myself. Unlocking the door I quickly stepped inside, slammed it shut and relocked it behind me. After flipping on all the lights I stalked towards the back of the store. That's when I found her.

"Ms. Lane, why the hell are all the lights off?"

"Huh? What? Barrons, I'm taking a nap. I thought you'd left." She rolled over and pulled the blanket tighter around her. Everything was exactly as it had been when I'd left. Had she been here all day?

"That was 12 hours ago Ms. Lane. It's dark outside."

Not looking at me, she sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes. Yawning, she gathered her bags and stood up. Something wasn't right. Her color was off, and she had no pithy comeback. As she stood and began to turn towards the door that led upstairs, she listed to the right. I grabbed her arm to steady her. She fell into me and dropped all of her items.

"Sheesh, that was my dinner! Listen if you're just going to yell at me can we do it upstairs? I really don't feel well, and I need to lay down."

What the hell was she talking about? _Fuck._ She was shaking, her arm was warm. I pressed a hand to her forehead - she had a fever. She looked and sounded completely out of it.

Holding her by the shoulders I tried to get her to focus. "Stay inside Ms. Lane. Do _not_ leave the store."

"Right, turn on the lights, stay inside the store. Got it."

There was a whoosh, like the wind had been sucked out of the room, and then I was alone again. I bent down to pick up my bags and stopped to take a deep breath. I have no idea how long I stayed there, on my knees, trying to gather up my things and just breathe. Finally feeling like I could manage the several flights of stairs, I headed up.

Entering my room I set my bags down on the coffee table and walked over to the closet where my luggage was stashed. I took off my skirt and hung it up to air out since apparently I'd been sleeping in it for the last twelve hours. Pulling on my favorite pink sweats that said Juicy on them, I walked back over to the small sitting area and sank down onto the love seat. It was covered in soft green chenille that felt good against my warm skin.

Feeling a bit better, I spread my things out. Thankful I'd thought to grab some bottled water at the pharmacy, I opened it and reached for some bread. Grabbing the paper and leaning back I was suddenly cold. _Crap, __I bet I have the flu_. Noticing that there was a black throw hanging over the arm of the couch, I pulled it around me. Picking up the paper I tried to read but the tiny print hurt my eyes. Maybe I should go back downstairs and sit in front of the fire. I wondered if I could even start a fire with how crappy I felt. Gah, my head was pounding.

"Ms. Lane open the door!"

"What?" Oh, maybe that was the pounding I heard. Getting up slowly I made my way to the door and unlocked it.

"I've been knocking for several minutes Ms. Lane."

"Sorry." Not even pausing to wonder why he was here, I turned and headed back for the couch.

"Where did you get that blanket?"

Looking at the blanket still wrapped around my shoulders, I took it off, carefully folded it and placed it back on the arm of the love seat.

"Sorry, it was in the room. I'll wash it and I don't know, leave it in your study or something."

"That's not what I meant."

Swaying as she stood, unsteady on her feet once again, she walked from the couch to the bed. She lay down, rubbing her forehead, and closing her eyes. Her breathing was uneven and labored. I didn't like this.

She lifted a hand, motioning back and forth between us. "I don't want to have this, whatever, again. I get it, it's not my place, these are not my things, you are not my friend. You know what would help - put post-it notes on everything I can touch. Shouldn't take too many, I'm sure it's a short list. I bet Fiona would be _happy_ to take care of that for you. Is it still okay if I sleep in this bed with this blanket?"

She was rambling. I walked over to the coffee table and set down the tray of food I had been holding.

"Ms. Lane, you're being-"

I paused when I saw it. Reaching down I picked it up, crumpling it as I seethed with anger.

"What the fuck is this?"

She looked up from her prone position on the bed. "A newspaper."

"I know it's a bloody newspaper Ms. Lane. You think you can survive on your own?"

Her head flopped back down on the bed, muffling her words. "Cause I'm doing great here, right? I just need a place I can go to at the end of the day where people aren't yelling at me constantly or making me feel like I shouldn't even be there or god forbid I touch something I had no idea I shouldn't touch and dang it, I need a place to make myself some food. I'll still help you hunt for the book. I just-"

"Ms. Lane, I've brought you something to eat. I suggest you do so before it gets cold."

She slowly rolled over and sat up, rubbing her temples, her eyes closed tight. "Why? Why are you being nice to me now?"

"Ms. Lane, clearly you're sick, and while I do not play nursemaid, you _will_ stay here and recuperate."

She looked up at me and let out a breath. "I can't stay here Barrons. It's breaking me and I'm no good to you or-"

"You're hardly broken, Ms. Lane."

Reluctantly, I got out of bed and marched over to the couch, glaring at him the whole time. I was so tired of him telling him how I was or wasn't feeling. There was a hole inside of me that nothing would ever fix.

"I was broken before I got here, Barrons."

I really didn't want to take anything else from him. So maybe I was feeling sorry for myself, but I had some pride left. But then I looked down at the tray. It was some kind of soup, and it was hot. There was bread and a glass of water. Narrowing my eyes and casting a sideways glance so that he knew I was still pissed at him, I picked up the spoon and began eating. It was delicious and warmed my whole body as it went down my throat. I looked over at him again. Okay, maybe this made up for some stuff.

He came and sat next to me. Arms crossed, the look on his face said he was pleased with himself.

"Not bad Barrons, maybe you wouldn't make such a bad nursemaid after all."

The feeling hit me just as I was about to take a bite of bread. Keeling over, I fell off the couch clutching my stomach. _No, please, not again._

"I can't do this anymore, kill me, the pain is too much."

_Bloody hell. Why the fuck is she so sick? Unless-_ "Ms. Lane is it here? Is it nearby?"

I'm dying and he's worried about his precious book. "Is this what the actual Sinsar Dubh feels like up close?"

Not having the energy to stand, I started crawling to the bathroom.

He rushed towards me and leaned down next to me, "You can control this Ms. Lane. Relax and breathe through it."

I stopped and looked around for something to throw at him. He continued to try and talk me out of feeling like crap and wanting to die while I inched towards the bathroom. The more he talked the worse the pain got. "Leave. Me. Alone."

I think he stopped talking then, or maybe he left. I really didn't give a crap at that point. On my hands and knees, I tried to focus on my breathing, and not throwing up. Eventually I made it to the bathroom. The tiles felt cool on my hot flesh. Inching closer to the sink, I pulled myself up to a kneeling position. Holding on for dear life, I lifted myself until I was standing.

Taking in my reflection, I saw that my skin was almost as white as the white shirt that now clung to my body, damp from perspiration.

I also noticed that there was a man I'd never seen before standing behind me.

Startled, I spun around quickly. Too quickly, and almost lost what little soup I managed to get down. "Wh…who are you?"

"The one you call when you can't reach him."

"Huh? Oh wait, he couldn't do it himself. Okay, go ahead." I tried to straighten up as best I could and prepare for what was to come.

The man just gave me a funny look. "Huh?"

Taking a deep breath, thankful this was about to be over. "You've come to kill me. Good, let's get this over with before the pain comes back."

Laughing, the man turned his head and shouted over his shoulder, "She thinks I'm going to kill her."

A low rumble, like thunder came from the bedroom. "Get her out of here now!"

"He doesn't want to get the room messy?"

"Goodnight Mac."

"Huh?"

The man's laughter, followed by, _was that growling,_ was the last thing I heard before everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

_**These characters belong to the brilliant Karen Marie Moning.**_

_**Big thanks to my goddesses of the red pen, Tradermare and Indigobuni. They make my words prettier and smexier – trust me. **_

_**Also, did you know that they've both written fever fics? When you're done with this chap go check them out. Cause really, who couldn't use a little more Barrons …**_

* * *

><p>There is no bloody way the Sinsar Dubh had been on my premises this whole time, right under my nose.<p>

I was stalking around her room and throwing things around when Ryo called out to me.

"She thinks I'm going to kill her." He was laughing.

Someone was going to die, that was for sure, but it wasn't going to be Mac, at least not today. Not ever if I could help it. "Get her out of here now!"

There was a loud thud. Rushing to the bathroom I found him standing over her. She was unconscious on the floor of the bathroom, her normally tan skin almost as white as the tiles beneath her.

"What the fuck, Ryo?"

"She's sick, feverish, and the tiles are cool. She's actually resting better now." Ryodan bent down on one knee and brushed the hair out of her face. Then he looked up at me and started laughing. "Right, you don't care. That's why your chest is pumped out, you're breathing at me through your nostrils, your fists are clenched and you look like you want to rip my head off."

"Actually, I was just going to knock you across the room, but ripping your fucking head off sounds like a much better idea." As I leaned down to grab his arm, Mac started twitching. "I swear, if you've done anything to harm her—"

"Me?" He turned and looked down at her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "She was lying perfectly still until..."

"Have I mentioned that I will fucking kill you?" I bent down. I needed to get her off that floor and into a warm bed. Ryodan's hand shot up and hit me square in the chest.

"Z, back up."

I tried to get closer but he had positioned himself squarely between us. He was straddling her, one hand on her shoulder, the other planted firmly on my chest.

"Get your fucking hand off of her!"

"Z. Back. The fuck. Up." He turned his head and looked me straight in the eye. "She's completely agitated now. Something's not right here."

Ryodan stood up and pushed on my chest. I _let_ him push me out of the room. My eyes were glued to her lying on the floor the whole time. He looked back over his shoulder, his hands _still_ on my chest. "See? She's not twitching. It's you. Clearly you have a negative effect on her."

"Fuck you."

He placed both of his hands on my shoulders. I looked at his hands and then back at him, glaring.

"Z, take a deep breath and tell me what happens when she senses fae."

Still glaring at him, I started to follow his line of thinking. "She gets nauseous, but not incapacitated. Although, if the Sinsar Dubh was nearby, maybe—"

"Z, do you have the Sinsar Dubh on you?"

I gave him a look that clearly asked if he really just posed that question to me.

"Then I'm fairly certain this has something to do with _you_."

Flinging Ryodan's arms off of me, I stalked back over to her. She immediately started twitching. As soon as I saw it I backed up until she stopped.

"Fuck."

"Exactly."

I couldn't stand watching her lie on the cold, hard tile floor anymore. Going over to the couch, I grabbed the black blanket she had on when I first entered the room and handed it to Ryo, "Here, put this on her."

Smirking, he took it from me and knelt down next to Mac and began wrapping her in it. "Okay, let's get her in the bed."

Mac started seizing and twitching.

"What the fuck is going on here Z?"

I threw off my duster and raced over to her. Unwrapping the blanket from around her, I threw it across the room too. She immediately calmed.

"I need you to get her out of here. Take her someplace safe, and I'll meet up with you later. But you can't tell anyone where she is, got it?"

"You trust me to keep her safe?"

"I trust you with my life. And hers. Doesn't mean I don't want to kill you from time to time."

"Just wanted to make sure we're on the same page."

"Usually." I walked over to her bed and grabbed the comforter, but then thought better of it. "Take off your coat and wrap it around her."

Smirking at me he obliged. Then he went to where Mac still lay crumpled on the floor and gingerly picked her up. He wrapped her in his coat and carried her to the door. "Take your time Z, she'll be safe." He winked.

If he hadn't been holding her I would have fucking thrown something at him.

As soon as he left, I picked everything up and gave it a good shake. Her comforter, the black blanket, my duster. Nothing happened, but as I shook them something resonated in me. They were ordinary items, but somehow different. The more I handled them, I realized each felt heavier than it ought to. As if something was weighing them down.

Also, I had never seen that black blanket before. It seemed out of place the moment I saw it wrapped around her shoulders. I'd certainly spent enough time staring at this room and the things in it to now realize something was off here.

Standing in the middle of the room I began scanning it for anything out of place. I opened myself up. There was a pervasive heaviness in the room. How had I not felt it before? I began whispering words in the ancient language, casting a druid spell throughout the space. "Show me what is true." I murmured at the end.

That's when they began to appear. Fae objects and relics were everywhere; some small, some large, and _all_ were hidden until my spell removed the glamour hiding them. There was only one person who could have done this. Fiona.

Fiona had been with me a long time and had learned well. Maybe too well. Although where she picked up the spell of concealment, I would have to find out. I knew it was her because she was the only other person besides me who had touched half of the artifacts now hidden in Mac's room. Despite the fact that she wasn't a sidhe-seer, Fiona apparently had acquired some talents she kept hidden, even from me.

Her organizational skills and attention to detail were impeccable, and she had been a great help in cataloging all of my finds over the years. _Well played Fiona._

I lifted my arms up, tilted my head back and began chanting again in an old language few had ever heard and even fewer would understand. The words stretched, ebbed, and flowed through the room and beyond. I had a hunch that if this room was covered in fae objects, there were undoubtedly more throughout the private quarters as well as the store. I was not foolish enough to think Fiona had restricted her endeavors to just this bedroom.

The building shook as the magic hiding the fae objects lifted. I was surprised at Fiona's cleverness as I watched them not only fall from my coat, but places you would not think to look. She had found a way to suffuse almost every inch of Mac's room with them.

Many more appeared at my feet from other parts of the building, and I was soon up to my knees in relics. This had gone beyond a woman's petty jealousies. She had intended irreparable harm. There would be consequences for this, she had to know that, but first and foremost I needed to clear the bedroom and store. Above all else, Mac needed a place to feel safe and I wanted her under my roof. Always. The fact that she wasn't here now was only bearable because I knew she was better off with Ryodan … for now.

* * *

><p>I entered Chester's and took the steps two at a time until I was on the top floor where the larger private bedrooms were. Although I had objected when he first bought it, this club had been a good idea on Ryodan's part. It provided for many things. I walked down the hall until I sensed them. He had put her in one of the seldom used bedrooms. Good.<p>

Entering the room I was pleased to see her in bed, sleeping, and Ryodan nowhere near her.

"She seems better."

Ryodan eyed me up and down. "Tell me you walked over here like that."

"It's all in the hallway. Check it to make sure I didn't miss anything."

"Where's Fiona?"

"On her last fucking chance with me."

Ryo smirked. I hated it when he smirked. "Didn't think the old girl had it in her."

"She's not that old."

"She's not that young anymore. They all grow up Z." Ryodan walked to the door and turned the knob to leave. "Do _not _mess up this room. I like this furniture." As soon as the door clicked shut, I locked it.

She looked comfortable in the four-poster bed, the gentle rise and fall of her chest telling me she was asleep. I moved closer to guage if my presence would agitate her. When no sudden movement occurred, I took a chance and sat beside her. I was fairly certain I had found the cause of her distress but was relieved to confirm that it truly had nothing to do with me. Not that I would admit that to anyone. Moving some stray strands of hair out of her face, I wondered when I had started caring so much about the life of one human girl.

_Fuck it._

I leaned down and gently slid my arms around her and picked her up. I had wanted to hold her, just hold her, for some time now. I knew she wasn't ready and knew that often, my mere closeness made her flinch. I liked to think it was because she was attracted to me and didn't quite know how to handle it. I held her to me and inhaled. She definitely made life more interesting, but that also made her a liability in my world. She began to stir, and I immediately laid her back down, swiftly moving to stand at the foot of the bed.

* * *

><p>Something smelled good, warm and dark and it enveloped my senses. The world came back to me slowly. You know that wonderful place between dreams and awareness, that's where I was. And it was heavenly. I was on a large, soft bed, surrounded by luxurious white pillows and a thick, warm, white comforter. The rest of the room was dark, still in shadows as my eyes weren't quite ready to focus. And the best part, there was no pain. No nausea, no overwhelming desire to run to the bathroom, no queasiness in my stomach, no splitting headache. No desire to have Barrons kill me. <em>Heaven<em>, I sighed.

Stretching, I rubbed my eyes and could have sworn that Barrons was standing at the foot of my bed. Naked. Stunned, I sat up way too fast and hit my head on a very solid, wooden headboard. Wait, had he come to kill me? Not sure why he needed to be naked for that.

"Ow." I rubbed my head where I had just smacked it. That was the second time today I'd been nailed in the head.

He was at my side in an instant. "Mac, are you okay?"

I stopped rubbing my head. I'm fairly certain my mouth was hanging open. Catching flies my mom would've called it.

He was looking at me oddly. He was smiling. It made his face look so different, so beautiful. "What?"

"You called me Mac."

Laughing a rich, deep laugh, he reached out and touched my face. Oh my god, what was he doing? Maybe I was still asleep. "Wait, what happened, what's going on?"

"Don't be frightened."

"I'm not." I was terrified. His fingertips grazed lightly over my cheek and electricity prickled at my skin. It made me shiver.

His gaze traveled from my face down to my chest, and I hoped he couldn't tell my breaths were coming shorter and faster. I lowered my eyes and that's when I realized I was only wearing a t-shirt over my underwear. I tried to pull the blanket tighter around me but he was sitting on it. "Where am I?"

"Safe." He was still touching me, stroking my face lightly with the back of his fingers. The look I gave him said I needed elaboration on that. This wasn't the bookstore. That much I knew.

"At a friend's."

"Right, because I have so many of those in Dublin." I looked away. It all came back to me. I was alone, in Dublin, looking for my sister's murderer and some ancient book.

His eyes were pools of black water as I looked back at him. Big mistake. I suddenly felt as if I was falling into an abyss. I could hear his voice in my head, as if we were having some wordless conversation.

_He didn't say, "Mac, always so brave, so strong for everyone else. What are you?"_

_And I didn't say, "I'm just a girl, a girl from Georgia whose best friend was killed. What are you?"_

_He ignored my question, "You're so much more than that. It's okay Mac, let go, I'll catch you."_

_I demanded an answer from him. "Who are you?"_

"_The one who is never going to fail you." _

"_I'm scared."_

_His eyes narrowed slightly. "You should be."_

My eyes went wide and I froze. He was sitting way too close.

"But not of me."

Later I would understand that Barrons and I would have many more of those "wordless" conversations.

I was definitely white knuckling the blanket as he moved closer and took my face in his hands.

"If you believe in two things, know that I will never hurt you and I will always keep you safe."

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. He smelled so good. There was something about that smell that must have set me off because tears began rolling down my cheeks. I was trying so hard to keep things in check, but it had been so long since anyone had held me. I just wanted to bury my head in his chest and cry for everything I had lost and would never have. But this didn't make any sense. Barrons didn't hold me. He wasn't the sensitive type. And why was he naked? Not that I minded, but this was so confusing.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I tried wiping the tears away with the back of my hand.

He laughed again and dried my cheeks with his thumbs. "Because you're not going to remember any of this."

"I'm not?" Why wouldn't I remember this?

He shook his head no.

"Oh." He pulled me back to his chest so that my cheek rested against his smooth, perfect skin.

"Am I dreaming?"

He lifted my chin and tenderly kissed my lips. "Would this be the kind of dream you'd like to have?"

"Maybe." Yes.

"Mac, see me."

There was a gentle pressure in my head. It was as if the words took form, entered my mind and opened it. His face changed, became more angular and sharper. Skin stretched over bone, taking on an iridescent tone. When he opened his mouth, I could have sworn his teeth began to elongate. Were those fangs?

I should have been terrified, but I wasn't. I knew I was safe here, with this man, in his arms … and always would be.

I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him hard. He wrapped his arms around me and crushed me to him. He ripped my shirt in half and threw it somewhere. Our hands roamed over each other, seeking, exploring. He lifted me by my waist and straddled my legs over his lap, his hardness pressing against me, insistent. Eyes raked over the swells of my breasts and my bra vanished to the same place my shirt went.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, and my head lolled to one side as he inhaled deeply. The scent of spice and male infused my senses. It was a heady combination, and I felt myself getting lost in it.

I barely noticed his hands moving over my body, one on my back, the other traveling lower until it rested on my ass. I moaned as he licked and sucked at my skin while pulling me tighter to him.

His hand traveled lower, delving inside my lacy cotton underwear until his fingers gripped my cheek and squeezed firmly. My head rolled back as his tongue reached the hollow spot at the base of my throat.

"Oh god." It came out in a breathy sound.

He laughed again; a deep devilish laugh full of carnal promises. Wherever his hands touched, my skin seemed to burn. His hands were large and warm. His fingers began exploring, kneading until—

"Ahhh..." I gasped as a finger suddenly penetrated me.

"So hot, Mac. So tight." He nipped his way up my jaw and laid me down on the bed.

He thrust another finger inside me and captured my lips in a searing kiss, swallowing my screams of pleasure as he plunged deeper into me. I melted in his touch.

My legs wrapped around his hips as a third finger joined his others, and he plundered into me. I arched my back up into him as the tip of his tongue drew slow circles around one of my nipples while the thumb of his free hand brushed back and forth over the other.

I was writhing underneath him, my body electrified. His teeth closed around my nipple, and he pulled it into his mouth.

"More," I moaned. At least I think I did. My brain wasn't quite functioning at that point.

He fisted my hair and lifted my face to his. That mouth. Those wonderfully long, rough fingers. They all stopped as he stared down into my eyes.

"So demanding. Tell me what you want Mac."

My breathing was hard, my lower body continued to undulate. I wanted him to go back to doing all those incredible things he had just been doing to me. Oh god, I was burning from the inside out. He moved his legs to stretch mine and I had no choice but to stop moving.

"Tell me." His words were more insistent. Words? He wanted words? I could barely think.

I wet my lips with my tongue. "You. I want you. This." I threw my head back and arched my body as much as he would let me. This man was driving me insane, and I didn't care.

"Now. I want you _now_."

The pressure on my scalp released, and I fell backwards onto the bed. I watched with fascination as he licked his fingers. I imagined what else he could do with his tongue and shuddered.

"So good Mac. I want more." And he called _me_ demanding.

Smiling wickedly, he kissed a trail from between my breasts and lower. His hands then took over where his lips left off, cupping my breasts, squeezing and pinching, as his tongue made its way further down my body.

God, I hoped this room was soundproof. There was no way I was going to be able to muffle the moans and screams coming from my lips, as he licked and nibbled and tasted.

I covered my hands over his as they continuously teased my nipples. I didn't know how much more I could take. Threading my fingers through his, he trailed our hands down to my hips, gripped them hard and raised them to his mouth.

He buried his tongue deep inside me and I couldn't hold on any longer. The dam broke and I gave in to the waves of pleasure rolling up and down my body. My mind left me and I drifted, seeing bright stars and flashes of lights behind my closed eyes. I may have stopped breathing.

At some point Barrons lifted me up and sat me back on his lap. It could have been days, hours or even minutes later. I looked into his eyes and saw those carnal promises again and more. He could do anything he wanted to me. Any_time_ he wanted. Really, because I'd never had anyone do _that_ to me. Well, I'd done _that_, but it had never been quite _that_ good. And somehow I knew that it would never be like that with anyone else.

Still recovering from the fiercest orgasm of my life, he turned me around and placed my hands on the headboard.

Laughing, he told me to hold on tight.

_Crap._ Had I said all that out loud?

He gathered my hair and let it fall to one side, kissing the back of my neck and shoulders. I groaned when he nipped the base of my neck. His hands slid down to my waist, and then he was on me. Strong hands wrenched my thighs apart, kneading them as he positioned me exactly where he wanted me. One hand rested on my hip as the other grasped his length and ran the head of his cock up and down my slit, pressing harder into me with each pass. Without warning, he drove straight into me as far as he could and stopped completely.

I arched back into him encouraging him to move. Damn it, I needed him to move. But his hands were on my waist and he wasn't letting me go anywhere. What was he waiting for? An invitation? I'd write it in blood if he needed one. My frustration was growing and all I could do was stay in this position, feeling the hard steel of him pulse inside me. I glanced over my shoulder and was just about to growl at him when …

"This is the part where you need to hold on tight, Mac."


	5. Chapter 5

_**These characters belong to the brilliant Karen Marie Moning.**_

_**This is the final chapter of The Object of His Desire. It's been a pleasure to write even when my muses were not as cooperative as I would have liked. But that's what I get for trying to poke around in Mac and Barrons' heads…**_

_**I couldn't have done this without the help of my wonderful betas – Indigobuni and Tradermare. These lovely ladies are both talented writers – make sure you check out their fics!**_

_**Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story. I've really enjoyed getting to know some of you and have loved all of the feedback!**_

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><p>Large, strong fingers caressed my body. I looked down to see dark hooded eyes looking back at me hungrily. He moved up my body slowly like a predator regarding his prey. At that moment I didn't know if he was going to eat me or kiss me. Either would have been fine.<p>

His hands moved over my calves and up my legs, kneading, touching. As he got to my thighs he slid them apart, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The smile on his face was feral. My body shuddered as his tongue licked a burning path through the wetness. I arched in response and a deep growl sounded in the air.

He stalked up my body slowly, torturing me in the most delicious way with nips and licks everywhere and anywhere he wanted. My breasts plumped, nipples tight and aching. He had captured his prey, and now he was like a great beast toying with it before it was devoured. I only hoped I survived.

Suddenly, his face loomed over mine. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, but he captured my hands, pinning my arms over my head. He regarded me for a moment, then a low, seductive laugh erupted from those perfect lips.

"What?" Did I have something in my teeth? Was there something on my face? Maybe he wanted to stop?

"Mac." He shook his head.

"Yes?" It came out breathier than I'd expected.

"Such an odd name for you."

Normally I would have responded with anger and defiance at his mocking my name, but he chose that minute to thrust his cock deep inside of me, stretching me to fit him.

"Why's that?" I finally managed to breathe out. I really didn't care what he called me, as long as he continued what he was doing.

He was going painstakingly slow. I didn't want slow. I wanted fast and hard and heated. He must have sensed my needs and instead of giving me what I wanted, he stopped and traced my face with one long finger.

"Because you're far too beautiful for a name like Mac."

He leaned down and kissed me. Long, slow, take my breath away kisses. Breathing was overrated. He stretched my body taught beneath him. I was completely consumed by this man.

"Jericho." I moaned.

He stopped again and looked in my eyes as if he was searching for something.

"Mac." He rolled his hips over and over, hitting that sweet spot deep inside.

Faster, harder. I was so close to tumbling over the edge when he started to move back down my body.

"Wait." Suddenly I was panicked that he was going to leave.

"I'll never leave you Mac. Ever."

It sounded like a promise, a vow.

He knelt between my thighs and gathered me to him, curling those thick, muscular arms around me and fusing our bodies together. Burying his face in my neck, he murmured promises of never leaving me, among other things I didn't understand. His lips trailed kisses over my throat, my chin and jaw, finally reaching my lips. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift as a wave of bliss washed over me carrying my worries away.

When I woke again later, the first thing I noticed was his scent. Spice and musk and male hung thick in the air. I stretched and inhaled deeply. I would never tire of this man. He had challenged me in ways I hadn't thought possible, mentally and physically.

"Jericho?"

"Ah, Ms. Lane. Back amongst us?"

"Ms. Lane? Isn't that a little formal after all we've—" I opened my eyes and immediately swallowed the rest of that sentence. I was no longer in a giant four poster bed. Sitting up, I blinked a few times, trying to make sense of my surroundings. And Jericho, _or was it Barrons_, was standing on the other side of the room by a window leaning against the wall, his thickly corded arms crossed in front of him, one ankle crossed over the other. He looked utterly sinful — and deadly — in his repose.

"Where … oh wait, I'm back in my room?"

"_Your_ room? Of course. Where else would you be?"

"Well, I thought that..."

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Biting my lip, I stammered. "Um..." I was so not going to tell him that.

The corner of his mouth twitched, like he was trying to suppress a smile. At least I thought I saw it. It was gone in an instant.

"Ms. Lane, you had a terrible fever and have been out of it for the last day or so."

"I have? What day is today?"

"Tuesday. Do you remember falling off the couch?"

"Kind of?" _Crap_. What had happened? I could have sworn that Barrons and I had... but that was impossible, right? I looked up at him. He had a very satisfied look on his face.

"Have you been here the whole time?"

"For the most part, yes. I couldn't exactly leave you in the condition you were in."

"Condition?" If that was all a dream, a really incredibly vivid dream, had I said anything out loud? Wincing and clearing my throat, I found the courage to ask.

"So, um, did I talk while I was out of it?"

His smile turned devilish. _Oh god. Kill me now._

"You spoke a little, yes. There was lots of moaning at one point and I wondered if you were in pain, but clearly you seemed to be... enjoying something."

I hid my face in my hands. This was too much. How was I ever going to look him in the eye again let alone-

"Who is Kyle, Ms. Lane?"

"Huh?" I spread my fingers slightly and peeked out at him.

"Kyle. You kept calling his name, while you moaned."

_Kyle?_ Oh my god, it was all a dream. I quickly lifted the covers to see what I was wearing. It was the white t-shirt and my favorite pink sweatpants that I had been wearing just before I, uh, passed out? I shook my head, tried to piece things together. I'd been on the couch. Barrons had brought me something to eat. He was being his usual pompous self and then I... fell? Why couldn't I remember what happened after that? Although I do remember what happened later. But Jericho Barrons certainly didn't look like a man who had just screwed me into nirvana.

"Maybe you meant Kyle, Siobhan's son. She sent over more stew. She was worried about you. Mentioned something about hitting you in the back of the head with a door?"

Slowly I reached up and felt the back of my head. Siobhan. Stew. Kyle. _Oh!_ The woman who ran the pastry shop, she hit me with the door. "But that doesn't explain..."

"Explain what Ms. Lane?"

I gulped as he came and sat next to me, turning my head to examine it. His hands were large, soft and warm.

"I don't see or feel anything, but I suppose it could have affected you. A bump to the head coupled with a fever might have contributed to some intense dreams."

He released my head and I turned back to look at him. Obsidian eyes bored into mine. _What was he looking for?_ I wanted to turn away but I couldn't. Was it really just a dream?

"Was what a dream, Ms. Lane?"

"Oh come on, I _know_ I didn't say that out loud."

"As I've told you many times Ms. Lane, you think all over your face."

I tried my best to make my face as impassive as possible, crossed my arms over my chest and thought straight at him.

"_What am I thinking now Barrons?"_

"_You're wondering if it was really a dream, and if it was, exactly how much of it did I hear."_

"_And?"_

"_And what?"_

"_How much did you hear?"_

He smirked. "_Should I be expecting late night visits to my store from Kyle?"_

I looked away. I couldn't help it. These wordless conversations were something I needed to get better at and fast. _Add it to the list._ Closing my eyes, I prayed he really thought all that moaning was because I'd been sick, or had something to do with Kyle.

He leaned in close, and I could feel his breath on my cheek. "Or maybe it was someone else who made you moan like that."

I blew out an exasperated breath and moved away from him. "So, I've been out of it for two days and you've been taking care of me?"

He sat back. Smug. "Naturally. I can't have you going and dying on me."

"Right, because you care so much about me." I uncrossed and recrossed my arms and glared at him. This man made me insane.

His eyes didn't say, _"There are things you don't know about me little girl." _

And I didn't say, _"I'm not a little girl, in case you didn't notice."_

His gaze shifted slowly down my face to my chest and lingered there. _"Yes, I'm exceedingly aware that you are _not_ a little girl_."

I followed the path of his gaze and realized my arms were under my breasts, practically pushing them up at him. Was that a growl I just heard? I uncrossed my arms and was just about to say something when he waved me off.

"I suggest you get some rest, Ms. Lane. As soon as you're well—we have work to do."

"Hunting?"

He smiled. It went all the way to his eyes. His face was truly beautiful when he smiled.

"Yes, Ms. Lane, hunting." He got up and headed for the door.

"Barrons?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

She smiled at me sheepishly. I stared at her for a moment, then nodded and left.

The human brain was capable of remarkable things. Like protecting itself from emotional trauma by not remembering. Or putting things into a safe context, like a dream.

She wasn't ready to have that kind of relationship with me. I wasn't sure I was ready either. But we were under each other's skins. In each other's heads. A part of her lived inside of me now and always would. But now wasn't the time. We had too much to do still and she couldn't afford to be sidetracked. Neither could I. Although, now that I had tasted her, I'd never be able to let her go.


End file.
